


Venus In Furs

by exposeyou



Category: True Blood
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-16
Updated: 2010-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-11 21:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exposeyou/pseuds/exposeyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric likes to have a room of his own, but what happens when your manipulative lieutenant and teenage lodger decide to make themselves at home?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Venus In Furs

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Eric/Jessica - Mentor Sex. Bonus points if there is fur involved" at the True Blood Kink Meme.
> 
> EDIT 12th March 2011: So I've just watched Season 3 Episode ", Beautifully Broken, and discovered that Eric actually did pose as an SS officer in the war!
> 
> When I wrote this, I was part way through watching Season 2 on DVD (at the time of writing, Season 3 is still not released on DVD in the UK) and I had no idea that such a thing was canon!
> 
> EDIT 26th May 2011 I've just seen this Season 4 promo picture that looks surprisingly close to how I imagine Jessica in this fic: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150207505598563&set=a.10150207505438563.329223.69144888562&type=1&ref=nf I'm starting to wonder if Alan Ball has read it...

One of the nicer things about owning his own business, Eric thought, was the opportunity to have a _bedroom_. Much of his existence had been insecure, fly-by-night, and he had slept in holes in the ground, or coffins. Now, master of an entire area, he could afford the luxury of a room of his own. The wallpaper might have been the same, typically vampiric red flock that adorned the walls of the club, but the bed itself was more personal, and very different to the rest of Fangtasia’s decor. Eric had deliberately eschewed red silk and black lacquer for something simpler. A bedstead made of blonde wood, clear-cut and simple, framed a vast expanse of plain white cotton sheets. Not only did the colour provide some contrast with his skin, giving his complexion a slightly more human appearance, it put him in mind of cool, refreshing snow-fields, pine forests, other calming memories. It was a soothing place to retreat to after a busy night in the club.

Usually, that is.

Unfortunately, once Pam had realised how much space he had in his _boudoir_ , as she liked to call it, she had swiftly commandeered the closet for her expansive collection of clothes. Quite why she needed hundreds of pairs of shoes when she only had two feet, Eric didn’t know, but he could understand her compulsion to cling on to beautiful things. Somewhere in the depths of that closet – it was a whole other room, really – there lay a breastplate from the Wars of the Roses, a mask he had worn to Venetian balls, even a leather trench coat Eric had taken from an SS officer after ripping his throat out.

He was slightly more put out by Pam’s latest addition, though. She had installed a dressing table in the far end of the room, overflowing with the coloured powders and potions that women liked to coat themselves in. It took up space, made the room look cluttered. Still, he came from a time when men, too, were encouraged to take pride in their looks, and the fact that he’d been known to borrow her kohl from time to time hadn’t left with much room to argue. He liked to keep her happy – for one thing, it kept her quiet. A bored and restless Pam was far more trouble than an indulged one.

Eric observed over his book as she fussed about Bill’s fledgling. The redhead. What was her name? “Now, Jessica, that shade of pink _will not_ look good with your hair colour, darling.” Jessica, that was it. She’d been an insufferable brat since coming to Fangtasia, and although he knew, intellectually, that the transition from human to vampire was a difficult process, his own experience was too distant for him to summon much feeling for the girl. Pamela was doing a better job.

He smiled to see his second-in-command fussing about the child, filing her nails, playing with her hair, then soon stopped when he realised he was visible in the mirror. Best to let the youngster keep thinking of him as the stony sheriff. But it was charming, really. He’d watched the two women snipe and snark at each other for days, and now that Pam had made an effort to hold her temper and bond with the girl – if only over _make-up_ , of all things – the younger vampire actually seemed happy.

“Now, Jessica, the important thing to remember about lipstick, is that it shouldn’t be quite perfect. That would look boring, uptight. Stuffy.”

“But I don’t want to mess it up! You just spent ten minutes putting it on...” The girl sounded almost scared at the prospect of ruining her new ‘look’. Eric rolled his eyes behind his paperback.

“Now sweetheart, its fine. The best way to blot it, to keep things a little bit imperfect, is with a kiss. It makes people wonder about you.”

“But I’ve never bee-“

Too late. Pam had darted forward with supernatural speed to do the honours. Then as Jessica gasped and spluttered in disbelief, she slowly, deliberately, licked the lipstick from her mouth and shot a wink at Eric in the mirror. He raised a sceptical eyebrow back. What was she playing at?

“Well, baby doll, now you have. Now, let’s get you out of that Morticia Adams get-up and into something more ladylike.” Pam purred. The shock of being kissed by another woman was quickly overtaken by glee at being allowed to play dress-up with Pam’s clothes. Jessica really did seem childlike as she rummaged through, pulling out silk blouses and beautiful dresses. She paused to coo over a particularly stylish suit in cream and black. Pam, like a proud mother, couldn’t resist telling her “That’s a Chanel. We had dinner together once in occupied Paris.”

“You and who?”

“Coco Chanel? The fashion designer?”

If a vampire can be said to chuckle, then that is what Eric did at the look of horror on Pam’s face. “Well, I can see we’re going to have to educate you if you’re to be up to Pam’s standards, young lady.” Jessica only glared at him, before returning to her treasure-hunt in the closet. So, that was how it was. Pam got to be the fun big sister, whilst he was only allowed to be the dour daddy figure? He didn’t give a fuck about Compton’s child, but it did strike him as unfair. After all, he was doing her a favour, saving her from a life in boring Bon Temps with boring Bill. And twirling around in a pair of Pam’s high-heeled pumps, a black satin evening gown clinging to those gentle, youthful curves, she did look quite beautiful.

“She looks like a younger version of you”, he told Pam in Swedish.

“Good enough to eat, no? You should take her.”

“She’s Compton’s. It really wouldn’t be worth the bother.”

Then, in English, Jessica piped up: “Would y’all stop talking about me as if I wasn’t here? Just because I don’t understand that language doesn’t mean I can’t get the gist of what you’re saying, you know.” The older vampires were spared a teenage hissy-fit, though, when she caught sight of something at the back of the closet. “Is this real fur? _Gross_...” The fascination in her eyes belied her words, though. She’d found an expanse of coarse grey fur, with heavy leather fastenings. Eric took it from her. He’d carried this across continents and through centuries, it was too valuable to him to let the child handle it. A cloak of wolf fur that had belonged to one of his comrades, taken the night Godric had slain them and given him a new life. And although it was heavy with symbolism, he threw it round his shoulders as if it were made of cotton. Well, if everyone else was playing dress-up, why couldn’t he?

Besides, he knew it made him look impressive. Even taller, fiercer. Something about its simplicity – perhaps the fact that it was made from wild animals - emphasised that he was a vicious beast himself. Oh, he may have had golden hair touching his shoulders, but in this, he was every inch a man. A warrior. Jessica was certainly impressed. In one sweep of his arm, Eric had managed to change her from a brat – yes, that was what she was, a _brat_ – into a lost girl looking up at him with something close to admiration. “Wow, you – you look like a Viking or something!” Eric smirked, and Pam returned it. Daddy had caught on to the game, and had decided to play as well.

“I’m sure Pam has more furs, some women’s ones, if you’d like to try them. Don’t you, Pam?” She had inherited her maker’s love of fur. Of course, neither of them needed it to keep warm, but it wasn’t about that, was it? It was about taking something that had once been as wild and free and inhuman as yourself, and making it yours. On a purely physical level, it was about the feel of it, the weight, the softness, the thrill that a thousand silky hairs stroking your skin could give to a vampire’s over-sensitive touch. It was better than leather, better than velvet, almost as good as feeling a lover’s skin against your own. Which was probably why, when Jessica turned around, that dress tight to her hips, with miles of inky black mink rolling off of those white shoulders, her bosom, and tickling her ankles, Eric wanted her. That instant, electric, animal thrill, that after a thousand years had never tired, and never would. He had seen something beautiful, sensuous, and never mind that she was Compton’s, or only seventeen, or even that he had spent the last two weeks itching to stake her – he would have it.

“Come here.” He kept his tone level – firm, but not too imperious. “What for?” Jessica was still a sullen teenager, even when she looked like a woman. “Well, Auntie Pam got a kiss, what about me?” She blushed – as much as a vampire could. “Come on now, don’t be shy.” As he knew it would, the challenge worked. Accusing someone of a weakness often made them angry enough to overcome it.

With his arm about her waist, they could have been two actors on the set of some cheesy, fish-out-of-water comedy – the Viking time-travels to fall in love with the forties starlet. And when they kissed, Eric was sure to be cool, teasing. He hung back, whilst at the same time holding Jessica so that she could not back away. He searched her eyes, huge with mascara and shadow and confusion. The poor darling didn’t understand what was going on. So heart-breakingly naive, she had not realised that her two mentors were teasing, playing with her. For one night, she had been allowed to be with the grown-ups, to play at being adult, and she had to see it through.

On the bed, Eric was privately delighted to see that despite Pam’s ‘makeover’, Jessica still retained her own plain white underwear. There was something very exciting about removing that elegant, ladylike dress to be reminded that beneath it all, she was still quite delicate.

The two of them moved around her. Pam kissing her throat, tracing the line of her collarbone, Eric running his lips down to her rosebud breasts. They worked in tandem, with every slow movement and lingering touch calculated to make her dizzy with arousal, but if Jessica had been at all aware, instead of flustered by their onslaught, she would have realised how little her presence actually mattered. Certainly, they were both attracted by her fragility, her innocence, and her beauty, enough to stage this show for her, but they had a thousand times before. She could have been any young, vulnerable thing, and it was only the fact of her newfound nature that meant that this performance, unlike all the others, would not end with her throat ripped out.

Proceedings came to a halt however, when Eric laid a kiss by her navel and made to remove her underwear. Jessica spoke, reluctantly and hesitantly. “I’m – I mean, I haven’t-“

“You’re a virgin.” Pam stated bluntly. She motioned Eric aside and took his place between Jessica’s thighs. “There’s very little to be afraid of.” She wasted little time in brushing aside that gorgeous little puff of red hair, and tasting the girl.

Eric reclined on the pillows at the top of the bed. It was always a pleasure to watch Pam at work. She went about this intimate act with the same appearance of nonchalant disinterest that she did most things, but he was sure that this time, it was a front. Jessica was making the most delicious sounds – hesitant, still, as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to be enjoying herself, but urgent, too. Pam shot him a look from her position low on the bed. Checking he was enjoying the show, perhaps?

It was off-putting, being stared at. Didn’t he realise that? _Men_. She was trying to focus, trying to give this girl a good time, instead of just getting lost in the taste and sensations, enjoying herself. For once, the cynical vampire felt that this situation was more than the sum of its parts – she was inducting a young girl into feminine mysteries, helping her to explore her body, and bringing her into womanhood. This wasn’t some soft porn fantasy for Eric to get his rocks off over. She’d get her revenge, subtly. As she felt Jessica begin to shake, her orgasm rushing through her, she slipped her fingers inside that delicious little cunt and gently scissored. As planned, Jessica barely noticed the penetration in the midst of her pleasure. Pam withdrew her hand and her mouth, and marvelled at the small smudge of virgin blood on her fingers. All that fuss and symbolism and taboo, for this? Although, as she licked her hand clean, deliberately denying Eric this rare treat, she had to admit – virgin blood tasted _beautiful_. Rich and intoxicating and -

“You’ve had your fun, Pam, move aside”. Yes, she’d pissed Daddy off. She was pleased with herself. He could have his turn, she had snared the real prize.

The scene, Eric thought, was picture-perfect, really. Red hair on black fur and ivory skin. And aesthetics aside, he had two beautiful women in his bed, and he was about to fuck one of them. Jessica, for her part, looked drugged. Her hair was splayed out on the pillow where she had writhed under Pam’s tongue, her eyes were glassy and her breathing – not that she needed to, anymore – was heavy. The fact that the teenager, normally quick with a sarcastic quip, was now silent, expectant, and willing to do whatever he wanted, was thrilling.

However much he enjoyed this pretty little tableau, he was painfully hard now, and wanted to waste no time in getting his release, but as he moved down to the foot of the bed, Pam laid a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t need her to say anything. The gesture was her silent way of asking him to be gentle. He would, of course, but why did she have to discover a maternal instinct on that particular evening?

The thought sobered him, ruined the moment. He took off his clothes quickly, feeling distracted. Why was he tense? What was the problem? She wasn’t too young, she wasn’t unwilling – and such matters had rarely bothered him before. In fact, she was looking at him with undisguised lust and something approaching impatience. But there was something. She was Bill’s child, and he would not be happy about this situation. But Eric calmed himself. _He_ was sheriff of Area Five, _he_ had taken Jessica in when her Maker wouldn’t, and these things were protection. And, really, Bill’s anger was not necessarily a bad thing, was it? Tradition and taboo aside, the thought of Bill’s reaction was actually quite amusing. A chance to get one over on Compton _and_ to enjoy himself? Yes, things were in fact perfect.

Another second and he was naked, on the bed, in her arms. She kissed him, keen now, even a little aggressive. He felt Jessica’s fangs with his tongue, and his own slide out again in reaction. And then, mmm, she was bucking up against him, eager. If there was shyness there, it was only in her face. Her body knew what lie in store, and wanted it. No need to make her wait any longer – Eric would be cruel only to a point – and those arms thrown around his neck, the long, coltish legs wrapped around his waist, the insistent, needy noises she made in his ear, all served to spur him on. He was inside her, warm and wet and so tight, despite Pam’s earlier efforts. Was the girl still nervous? He didn’t need to look up to know that Pam would be thinking the same, stroking her hair and holding the hand that wasn’t currently trying to draw bloody furrows along his shoulders.

That one, he pinned to the bed. “You will be rough when _I_ tell you”. The reassertion of control and the change in rhythm did them both good. Clearer roles – the big bad sheriff and the naive little girl – meant they both knew where they were, even as their bodies shifted. The soft fur was more slippery than the bed, and Pam had to stifle a laugh at the farcical element of it. Not that the fur itself ruined the scene – it felt delicious to all three of them. An extra flavour in a cocktail of sex and pleasure.

Pam, reclining at the head of the bed, couldn’t help but laugh at the transformation the trio had undergone. From stoic, stony vampires, bored with their situation, to warm, frantic creatures, fucking with a passion that was rarely thought of in the undead. She had been aching to touch herself since she had tasted Jessica, but had not wanted to distract herself from the task at hand. Now, however, she could afford the luxury. Watching the two before her rut like animals, she slipped a hand between her legs.

Eric felt that women had it easy in the bedroom. The physical was all that mattered, and they didn’t have to trouble themselves with mental concerns, whilst he was stuck with the constant dim awareness that timing was everything. He had, though, had ten centuries to practise, so he knew just when to growl the words “bite me” to ensure that the rush of blood into her hungry, waiting mouth echoed her orgasm. Her cries were muffled by his throat, as if she were screaming her release around his pulse. And that feeling, strangely more intimate than him being inside her, was what sent him over the edge.

Eric made the women leave almost immediately. He wanted his space back. Jessica didn’t say a word, just hurriedly put her clothes back on and wiped the blood from her mouth, suddenly modest. Pam, though, wasn’t one to leave quietly.

“You ruined my coat.”

“Was the show worth it?”

“Every penny.”


End file.
